The Respect He Deserves
by Kkarrie
Summary: It took me five minutes to become friends with Buzz McNab, but it took me seventeen years to give him the respect he deserves.


My name is Annie Carson and when I was six years old I met my guardian angel. This angel didn't have any wings, he didn't have a halo and he wasn't wearing a white robe. He was tall, funny and above all else, I remember him being happy, even at the very end. I only met my angel the one time, that hot summer day in 2011. He told me that he liked my hair. I laughed and buried my face in my hands - well at least, that's what my parents said happened.

Sometimes it's hard to tell what I remember from that day and what I found out after I was old enough to go to the library by myself and look through the old newspaper articles. I remember his name was Buzz, because when I found out I asked him if he knew Woody and he winked at me and said yes.

I met my guardian angel named Buzz at the ice cream parlor. I was getting a blue moon cone with rainbow sprinkles. He was behind me and my parents in line. I was spinning in circles and ran into his leg. My mother apologized profusely and Buzz laughed and said it was okay. I'd never had anyone tell me it was okay that I bumped into them.

I asked him what kind of ice cream he was going to get and he said rainbow sherbet, because he was off duty. I don't know what kind he would have gotten if he had been on duty; probably vanilla or something boring like that. I told him about my dog named Grover and how Grover never did anything but sleep. I asked him if he had any pets; I guess that was my go-to question when I was six, because I asked everyone. He said he had a cat, named Little Boy Cat, who was really a girl. That made me laugh and when I laughed his eyes lit up. I know at the age of six you aren't very good at reading people, but I knew I had genuinely made him happier.

My parents used to say I was the biggest flirt they had ever seen. I was only six, but I liked to make people laugh, and when they did laugh, I just wanted to make them laugh even more. I told Buzz the three funniest jokes I knew - they were all knock-knock jokes, of course. He asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up and I told him very seriously that I wanted to be a weatherman on TV. My dad laughed and told Buzz that being a weatherman was today's dream, but tomorrow morning I would wake up with the goal of being a ballerina or an Olympic figure skater.

My parents ordered my ice cream, and while I was waiting to get my cone I got it into my head that I should play tag with my new policeman friend. I remember running towards the door, daring Buzz to give chase, ignoring my mother's pleas to stop bothering the nice policeman.

Buzz smiled at her and told her it was okay, but then his smile faltered as he looked towards the door. He would have seen what I don't remember. He would have seen the man in his twenties wearing a black hoodie - which was odd for the middle of a July heatwave - walk through the door of the ice cream parlor. He would have seen the man pull out a gun. He pulled out his own gun and shouted at the man with the hoodie to put down his weapon.

I don't think the man with the hoodie (who thanks to the newspapers I found out was named Jacob Arnold) could have known that there would be a policeman at the ice cream parlor that day. He couldn't have known, but when faced with the fact Buzz was there, he didn't stand down. He grabbed me and told Buzz to drop his gun. I started crying and Arnold shook me and told me to be quiet.

Buzz told him to put me down, that everything would be alright if he would just put me down. Arnold refused and held me tighter. I kept crying. That's when the guns fired. I had to find out what happened by reading the newspaper articles and the police reports.

Arnold fired first, he hit Buzz in the left shoulder and dropped me on the floor. Buzz was able to fire back, but his aim was off and he only clipped Arnold's leg. As he ran for the door, Arnold fired another shot, this one was lower.

My mother grabbed me and covered my eyes, my father was trying to keep Buzz from bleeding out. The girl behind the counter was on the phone with 911.

A blue police car came screeching up outside the door. It seemed to show up almost immediately, but it was probably more like five minutes. Two detectives got out, even then I knew they were detectives because they were wearing suits. The girl detective tried to get the ice cream girl to calm down enough to talk to them. The guy detective ran over to Buzz. He looked at me with eyes that were the same color blue as the crayon I used to color the sky in my coloring books. He start at me for a moment and then looked from me to my mother and then back to Buzz.

Everything that happened after that was a blur. My parents decided to go to the funeral. I wasn't old enough to know that I should cry, but I was old enough to know that I should be quiet. There was a big picture of Buzz at the front, next to the coffin. They did a gun salute for him. I covered my ears for that.

After the gun salute the detective with the blue eyes stood at the front. He said a bunch of things, I remember thinking that he was taking such a long time to say all these words. I couldn't tell you what he said, they were boring to me at the time.

They arrested Arnold the same day Buzz was shot. He didn't make it far with a hurt leg and as far as I know he's still in prison for shooting a policeman.

Every time I think back to that day, I always assumed that Buzz was there to get himself some ice cream. Now that I've had some time to think about it, I realize that he was there to protect me.

When I was twelve I was almost hit by a car, my parents swear it missed me by inches, the driver wasn't paying attention and neither was I when I started to cross the street. A horn honked and I found myself sitting on the curb, my knee skinned, but other than that I wasn't hurt. I don't know how I ended up on the curb. My parents credit my guardian angel for keeping me safe, although they don't know that his name is Buzz.

I've had a few close calls over my childhood, but they never got me seriously injured. I never ended up in the hospital - just a skinned knee or a bruise on my face.

OoO OoO OoO OoO

I'm now twenty-three and getting ready to start my first day working for the Santa Barbara Police Department. I'm really hoping that Buzz is still looking out for me. I could use a guardian angel going into this job. I passed all my academy courses with flying colors, and even though I had doubts, my parents knew that I would. They say I've been preparing for this job a long time.

When I was five my dream job was a chef or a veterinarian or a movie star or a weatherman, but like my parents told Buzz, it changed every week. After that day, the day in the ice cream parlor, I only wanted to be a police officer. I was on the crossing guard at school as soon as I was old enough. I begged my dad to take me shooting on my sixteenth birthday instead of getting me a car. Even though my parents thought it was weird, they let me stick with it.

OoO OoO OoO OoO

I know that being a cop is a dangerous job, that was a lesson I found out early on in life. My parents reminded me of it every time I told anyone what my career goals were after I graduated college.

There's a picture of Buzz on the wall by the locker room to remind everyone of what being a cop might cost you. Buzz smiles at every rookie that walks down that hallway. I know the picture has been there a while; there's a plaque with a date and Buzz's name. Even though the picture is old, it feels like Buzz is smiling at me when I go downstairs every morning to put my things in my locker.

My first day I was partnered up with an older officer and we were sent on patrol. There was a vandal spray-painting on the side of a bridge, and when we pulled over, the kid bolted. I gave chase, with my partner right behind me. The kid vaulted over a fence and I followed him over. The drop on the other side was three feet more than what I was expecting. Who would build a fence on a hill? Miraculously I didn't break my leg in the drop. The kid we were chasing wasn't as lucky.

It wasn't until we were back at the station that my partner clapped me on the back and shaking his head told me how I was lucky and that someone must be looking out for me. I didn't say anything, but I swear when I walked by the picture at the end of the day, Buzz winked at me.

OoO OoO OoO OoO

The first week was over before I had so much as blinked. Friday afternoon I was stuck with giving the day's case reports to Head Detective Lassiter. This was every rookie's least favorite job, or so I'd heard. I hadn't met him yet, but Detective Lassiter was legend in the department. He liked to boss the rookies around. He made them run errands, although mysteriously he never made them get his coffee. If he was in a foul mood, which seemed to be most of the time, he had been known to tear a rookie a new one for things like breathing too loudly or for walking too close to his desk.

The officer I had been paired with on my first day, Isaacs, handed me the folder and whispered that he hoped my guardian angel was looking out for me again. Maybe he thought Lassiter wouldn't yell at me, since I was a girl.

I gingerly put the reports down on his desk and hurried back towards the safety of the front desk, hoping to get away without having to talk to him.

"You," Detective Lassiter snapped at me, before I'd gotten more than a few feet away.

No such luck. I turned. "Yes, sir?" That's when I saw those blue eyes. The same blue eyes from the ice cream parlor. The face they belonged to was older, but it was the same pair of piercing blue eyes. I was staring at him, I knew it, but I couldn't look away. Then it occurred to me that he had said something. "Sorry, what was that, sir?" I cringed, knowing I was going to be berated.

"Do you need to clean your ears," Lassiter's blue eyes flicked to where my name was embroidered on my shirt. "Carson?"

"N-no, sir, I'm s-sorry, sir." I was blabbering and I knew it.

"Then pay attention the first time I ask you something. Were these all the reports from the front desk?"

"Yes, sir, they were." I nodded.

Lassiter scowled. "You don't have to 'sir' me. I knew a rookie who did that all the time," His voice actually broke, he paused, regained his composure and continued. "It was the most annoying thing on the planet. So stop doing it." He opened the files and started to go through them.

I nodded even though he wasn't looking at me and, in that moment, I knew I had to tell him what had thrown me off. Even if I got demoted, I felt like I needed to tell him why I was a police officer.

"Sir, Detective Lassiter, I mean," At least my voice was steadier as I tried to get his attention back from the reports.

"What is it, Carson?" He drawled at me, meeting my gaze.

"I saw you, a long time ago, when I was six." He was looking at me like I was crazy.

"I'm not your father or a psychaitrist for you to share feelings with, Carson, so make it snappy."

"I saw you that day, the day at the ice cream parlor," I could feel his eyes boring into me as I stuttered through my story; my steadiness of voice has completely gone out the window. "When B-buzz, I mean, when Officer McNab saved my life."

If Lassiter had been doubting my sincerity, or thought that I had been dared by the other rookies to talk to him for more than three words, those doubts were gone. "I remember that day," was all he said and I took it as a cue to continue.

"I just wanted you to know that he's the reason I'm a cop. Just what he did, and he wasn't even on duty at the time. I've always wanted to help people like that. I was only six, but those five minutes, they changed something in me," I couldn't look at those blue eyes, it was like he was staring into my soul or something. "I mean, I can't even look at rainbow sherbet without tearing up. I just feel like this," I motioned a hand at my uniform, "is a way for me to give him the respect I wasn't old enough to give him when I was six."

There was a full minute of silence as Lassiter continued to stare at me. He wasn't just staring into my soul anymore, it was like he was reading me, as if I were a book. Finally he slowly took a breath.

"Carson, let me tell you something about McNab." Lassiter carefully chose his words. "Buzz McNab was the happiest person in this entire station. He was an eternal optimist, and I'll be damned if he didn't die with a smile on his face." He paused and collected himself. "I remember you from that day. I'm assuming you were the little kid at the scene," he continued when I nodded. "Let me tell you this; in all your time in this department, which if you do it correctly should be nearly fifty years. In your time here, if you're half the cop that Buzz McNab was in his five years, you're in store for a great career here. Now get back to work. The government doesn't pay you to stand around and cry."

I nodded again and headed back to work. I had a feeling that all those boring things I hadn't paid attention to at the funeral had just been repeated in Detective Lassiter's own style.

"And Carson!" He called after me, half snapping, but I could almost hear a smile in his voice.

"Yes, s-, detective?" I caught myself that time.

"Bring me some coffee, three creams, four sugars." Lassiter pointed to the empty mug sitting on his desk.


End file.
